


Come Together

by shessocold



Series: Before They Make Me Run [1]
Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Best Friends, Friendship/Love, M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-09
Updated: 2019-07-09
Packaged: 2020-06-25 13:56:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19747129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shessocold/pseuds/shessocold
Summary: John is wearing his glasses.





	Come Together

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rufusrant](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rufusrant/gifts).



> Happy birthday, dear!

“What are you staring at me for?”

Paul, startled, almost drops his pick. He’d forgotten that John is actually wearing his glasses today, which means that it’s not _safe_ to… 

John’s handsome face splits suddenly into a rather dangerous grin. 

“Enough with the songs,” he says, setting his guitar aside. “I’m bored.” 

“Bored?” repeats Paul, skeptical. John’s grin shifts into a smirk. 

“Bored,” he confirms, stretching his arms over his head. The movement exposes a sliver of his bare stomach, not that Paul dares actually look. “Let’s have a wank.” 

Paul nearly falls off the sofa. 

“What?” 

“A wank,” insists John, in a voice that is clearly meant to trick Paul into… 

“Here, in the front parlour? Come off it, everyone could see from the street,” Paul finds himself replying. He’s quite sure that it’s not the reaction he was supposed to have. John looks very amused. 

“That’s half the fun,” he says, putting his feet up on the little coffee table between them. “But we can go upstairs, Paulie dear, if you’re feeling shy.” 

“I’m not feeling _shy_ ,” protests Paul, out of sheer contrariness. Part of him — the sensible part — is sure that whatever John has in mind, it’s not going to be pleasant, but another part of him — the part that’s stirring in his trousers, mostly — is really intrigued. “It’s just that…” 

“Brilliant,” interrupts John, and he starts undoing his trousers. 

“John,” says Paul, without much real conviction. “The window.” 

John doesn’t bother with a reply. It’s not the first time Paul has seen him wank, but it’s the first time it happens while they’re the only two people in the room. He allows himself a glance, and then another, enough to fully absorb the slightly surreal picture of John’s lovely fingers wrapped around his hard cock in Paul’s shabby front parlour. 

“Brigitte Bardot,” says John, perfunctorily. His hand is moving, but his sharp gaze remains on Paul, studying his reaction. Paul resolves to keep as impassive as he can and wait for John to either spring his trap or get bored with the whole thing. Or, he supposes, wait for John to come all over his own hand in front of him. Despite his best efforts, he feels himself getting hot under his collar at the prospect. 

John notices, of course. 

“C’mon,” he urges, swinging his feet off the coffee table and leaning forward. “It’s no fun to go alone.” 

Paul knows better than to trust John’s apparent bouts of earnestness, but he’d be lying if he said that he’s not tempted — or that he’s not fully hard inside his trousers. He keeps still. 

“I can _see_ it from here,” adds John, frustrated. “I know you want to, you prick tease.” 

It takes Paul a moment to come to terms with the fact that John is actually, irrefutably referring to the bulge in Paul’s trousers. He’d be less shocked, all things considered, if Bardot herself had suddenly dropped in to answer their customary masturbatory invocation. Seconds tick by. 

“Paul,” pleads John, after a while. Paul looks up, struck by his friend’s tone. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen John look quite so unguarded, so… the concept disturbs him, but _vulnerable_ is the word he’s looking for. He feels very embarrassed all of a sudden. 

“Hepburn,” he says quickly, undoing his fly. “Audrey, mind, not Katharine.” 

John pauses mid-stroke. It’s clear that he knows exactly what Paul is trying to do — lead them back to safe, well-tested pastures. He looks conflicted, just for a second, and then he rearranges his features and it’s like the last few minutes never happened at all. Paul breathes a sigh of relief. 

“Hepburn,” repeats John, his lip curling in pretend distaste. “She looks like she wouldn’t put out even if you married her first, Paul. You’re _horrible_ at his.” 

“Sorry,” says Paul, his tone wistful, and they go back to wanking.

**Author's Note:**

> "Almost in each other's faces, John and Paul quickly gained an unusual closeness, little or nothing hidden. Paul noticed 'John had beautiful hands'." [The Beatles - All These Years - Extended Special Edition, Mark Lewisohn.]
> 
> "What it was," he explains after I have prompted him, "was over at John's house, and it was just a group of us. And [...] we were all just in these chairs, and the lights were out, and somebody started masturbating, so we all did. [...] We were just, 'Brigitte Bardot!' 'Whoo!'" McCartney says, "and then everyone would thrash a bit more." [[source](https://www.gq.com/story/the-untold-stories-of-paul-mccartney)]


End file.
